What If It Wasn't
by eternal second
Summary: People tend to assume that Mello has been obsessed with chocolate his entire life, that Matt is his best friend, that he didn't say good bye to him before he left,   and Wammy's will really let you go that easily.


**_-What If It Wasn't-_**

**A/N:**People tend to assume that Mello has been obsessed with chocolate his entire life, that Matt is his best friend, that he didn't say good bye to him before he left, that he departed _immediately _after telling Roger he would, and Wammy's will really let you go that easily. All that could be true; probably is. This is just my version of what could have happened instead and the reasons behind things I've wondered about. Don't fret your pretty little heads about it if you hate this parallel; I don't own anything of Death Note anyway. ; One-shot. Lyrics at the beginning are from the song "_What If_" by Emilie Autumn.

* * *

><p><em>I'm far too tired to stay here anymore<em>_  
><em>_And I don't care what you think anyway__  
><em>_'Cause I think you were wrong about me__  
><em>_Yeah what if you were, what if you were_

* * *

><p><strong>_-Wammy's house, Winchester, England-_<strong>

It's December, and it's early. A young boy is awakened into another bleary morning by the sound of someone slamming the door to dorm M. Is Wammy's House _ever _peaceful? There's always someone yelling, someone beating someone up, someone getting beaten up, someone going insane, someone committing suicide. He guesses he should have expected that. They say with great genius comes great insanity. And also great responsibility. That said, this entire House is chock full of insane kids with big responsibilities.

The boy rolls over on the bed and opens one eye. It's the blonde kid, one of the Successors, still dressed in his all-black pajamas, coming in with an armload of stuff: lollipops, chips packets, fruit soda cans, packets of gummy worms and candy bars by the motherload. He dumps them on his bunk. The other kids in dorm M don't even stir. Years living with this kid might have permanently altered their hearing.

_Not me, though, _the boy thinks, sitting up and yawning. It'd been only a week or so since he'd been transferred into Dorm M, a month after his parents…

No, he didn't want to think about that. Not now.

He heard that one of the two Successors stayed in this same room, and he was hoping to learn something from him, but not once had he ever had a conversation with him or caught more than a glance in his direction.

"Dude," he says, his voice cracking. "Did you rob the vending machine or something?"

The blonde kid doesn't answer his attempt at friendliness. Instead, he picks up a candy bar and reads the inscription on the back. _Odd, _the boy thinks. _No one ever reads the fine print._

"What time is it?" he says, hoping to get some sort of reaction from the blonde. It works. The black-clad teenager wordlessly throws a clock in his direction. "Thanks." He eyes the silent kid. _He isn't always this quiet, not by what the other kids tell me. _"Wordy today, aren't we?" he tries.

Finally, the golden-haired boy runs out of patience. "I'm sorry," he says, turning to face the new boy with blue fire in his cold eyes. "Do I _look _like I'm in the mood to converse with some random kid I barely associate with?"

The random kid in question shrugs. "I don't know. What do you look like when you're in the mood?" He needn't have bothered; the Successor goes back to sorting through his stash, ignoring him. "Happy, is it?" he says, undeterred.

"Excuse me?"

"Your alias," the new boy says, moving over to sit on the edge of his bed. "Happy, or Cheerful or something. Like one of the seven dwarves. All I remember is that it doesn't exactly suit you…"

The blonde let out a harsh humorless laugh. "'_Happy'? _I'm in Dorm _M. _What does that tell you, genius?"

"Oh, right – d'oh. Your alias is something with M. You're right about that genius part, though." He holds out a hand. "I'm Matt."

The Successor looks at him blankly.

"Number Three?" Matt says. "I'm ranked after you for Successor. Well, they say I have potential, but I'd be better off as an Assistant or something." _Or something._

The other smirks, ignores the outstretched hand. "Right. You're that kid with the brains but no initiative. And apparently no sense of sarcasm." Calling someone genius in Wammy's House isn't always a compliment, especially when the place is mainly resident prodigies.

"That's me," Matt says, nodding. "And you are?"

"Mello. Rank two." Mello turns away again.

"Mellow – that's it!" Matt laughs. "I knew it was something like Happy."

Mello gives him a withering look. "Mellow means Gentle, Not Harsh and Mature."

Matt smiles. "Yeah?"

Mello rolls his eyes, knowing that it's too late to ignore him now. "Besides, it's spelt without a W in the end."

"Oh, I know," Matt says. "I just wanted to make conversation."

"Well, it worked. Hope you're happy."

"Just mellow," Matt chirped. After a while of silence, he says, "Can I ask you a question, Mello?"

"Not now."

"It's important."

Sigh. "Fine. What?"

"What's up? I mean with all the sugar and the crankiness."

"None of your business."

"Why're you up so early?"

"Ditto."

"Roger call you?"

"Is this 20 Questions?"

"If you want, sure. So did he?"

"Yeah."

"Any chance of a detailed explanation, Mello?"

Mello sighs again, and sits down on the floor against his bunk. "L's dead."

Matt wasn't expecting that. "He's…he's dead-?"

"He's dead," the blonde says, closing his eyes painfully and letting his head fall back on the mattress.

Matt considers this news for a while, unsure of what to say. "So," he says after a while. "Who's his successor?"

Mello opens an eye and looks at him. "Who do you think?"

Matt shrugs. "I don't know. Could be either of you Successors. I've always heard Roger say that you two remind him so much of L, or from what Mr Wammy tells him, as if L's personality were divided into two separate personalities."

Mello looks at him oddly. "He said that?"

"Yeah. Two heads are better than one anyway. What good is it if both the heads are exactly the same? Might as well be just one."

Mello thinks about it. Matt interrupts with: "So you're the candy-lover huh?"

"What?"

"The one with the sweet tooth. I hear L's got a pretty massive one himself."

Mello eyes the stash behind him on the bed. "No. Not really."

"Then what's with-?"

"Roger says I have to gain some weight," Mello replies grudgingly. "So that's what I'm trying to do. He makes it seem like it's okay for me to leave this institution, but he's throwing all these hurdles at me first. I had to sign all these clearance forms and go through all these physical and mental health tests before I'm approved for permanent leave."

"Seems like he doesn't want you to go."

Silence.

Matt thinks through it all. It's a bit too sudden. His first actual conversation with the volatile golden prodigy and he's already leaving. Custom dictates that when L is no longer able to continue his work, his Successor (in this case, two of them) would have to carry out from where he left off. As Soon As Humanly Possible.

"Where are you going anyway?" Matt asks, genuinely curious. "Did you get picked for L?"

"No. I'm leaving the House. Near… I gave it up to Near."

"What?" Matt looks around for something to throw at Mello. "Are you seriously saying—" A pillow whizzed through the air and caught Mello at the side of his face. "—that you _willingly _gave up the position to Near? After everything you did to win?"

"Hey, watch it!" Mello stands up, eyes blazing. "I had no choice! Roger wanted me to work alongside him! I would rather lose!"

Matt sighs, rolls his eyes, drops his head into his hands. "You are too proud for your own good, you know that?"

"Yeah, well," Mello sits down. "That's what everyone says."

"I used to look up to you, man," Matt mumbles. "Didn't think you'd be such a wreck."

Mello glances at him. "You did…? I mean, I am?"

"Yeah, I mean, look at all this!" Matt waves a hand at all the junk spread out on Mello's bed. "What _is _all this? Our student allowance doesn't go as far as to allow all this! You obviously stole it."

Mello shrugs. "I had to."

"So you're okay with going against the law?" Matt asks, horrified.

"You have to do what you have to do," Mello spits back, not making eye contact. "And anyway, I have a plan in mind that means a lot more than just what the law is or isn't. With Kira steadily becoming justice itself, I don't mind breaking a few rules. It was different when it was L upholding the law."

The law is the law is the law no matter who is upholding it is what they taught you in Wammy's. They treated it as simple logic. This was a school dedicated to bringing up the ones who would define justice. The fact that Mello was defying his very upbringing meant that he dared to think differently, that he would go to any lengths beyond the metaphorical box to achieve what he felt – what he believed – to be right.

Or, he was just insane, like everyone says he is.

"What's the plan?" Matt says suddenly.

Mello gives him a sideways glare. "Why would I tell you that?"

"So I can help of course. Like I said, I look up to you; you're like my hero. From what you just said, it turns out this isn't about justice to you. It isn't for me either."

"And what good will you be?"

Matt shrugs. "I'm pretty good with stealth surveillance and technical crap. I'll be a lifesaver, dude, I swear."

Mello hesitates. "But you're kind of clumsy…"

"So? I'm dead loyal," Matt says, standing up and moving over to where Mello sat. "And I have an eye for detail."

Matt shuffles through Mello's stolen stash and picks up a bar of chocolate. "Here," he says, handing it to Mello. "Start with this."

Mello wrinkles his nose. "Dark chocolate?"

"Extra dark," Matt nodded. "It lowers risks of heart attacks. Scientifically proven. It might help to try, just as a precaution. Chances are Kira can still get at you, but it doesn't hurt to be careful."

Mello rolls his eyes. "I am careful. I've been trained to operate without a name or a face."

"Either could be found with the right resources," Matt says, sitting down beside Mello. "Like I said, it doesn't hurt to try."

Mello reads the wrapper of the chocolate and then unwraps it. He takes a tentative bite, a small one. Matt watches him. "Well?"

Mello nods and swallows. "It's...it's not bad." He sounds surprised.

"Great! You have the taste for it then!" Matt says jubilantly, mock-punching Mello's shoulder. "I never liked those things myself."

Mello looks at him. "Look, if you're going to be working alongside me, chances are you might—"

"Aw, don't worry about me," Matt says quietly. "I'm a risk-taker. Not unlike you. The only way I'll be stopped is if I let them."

Mello nods, and then looks down at his hand in surprise. Without even noticing it, he'd finished most of the chocolate bar. Matt smiles and hands him another one.

"You'll gain weight in no time, buddy," he says. "Roger's right – you're too skinny to be healthy."

"It's the stress," Mello explains, rolling his eyes but accepts the bar.


End file.
